Lords of Darkness
by darke wulf
Summary: The Undertaker is sick of being constantly screwed out of the WWF Title and isn't going to take it anymore. **Warning - mild language, violence, death, slight slash Please R/R!!!
1. The Lords of Darkness

Standard Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters used in this story (more the pity). They are owned by the WWF. I am making no money from this little piece of drivel. There is no need for a lawsuit.  
  
  
Lords of Darkness  
  
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Raw is War here on TNN!" JR exclaimed as the pyrotechnics for Raw ended. "We are just under 24 hours removed from one of the most hellacious Judgment Day pay-per-views that I can remember, and who knows what the fallout from that will bring."  
  
"That's right, JR," Paul Heyman agreed from his seat next to the other man. "One thing we do know...my Olympic Hero, Kurt Angle successfully recovered his gold medals from Chris Benoit, and tonight we will be honored to witness a reenactment of his historic medal ceremony."  
  
"He got them back, alright, with more than a little help from his buddies Edge and Christian," JR groused, "also tonight the APA meets the Radicals in tag team action, Matt Hardy defends his European Title against X-Pac, and, in our main event, HHH and Stone Cold Steve Austin defend their Tag Team Titles against the team of Y2J Chris Jericho and the rabid wolverine Chris Benoit. It should be quite a night."  
  
Suddenly their commentary was interrupted as all the lights in the arena went out.  
  
"What the...what's going on?" JR asked in shock.  
  
"I don't know," his partner replied nervously, "JR, did you touch something?"  
  
"I had nothing to do with this, I promise," he told Paul as the crowd nervously began muttering. Their hypothesizing was ended as the long, low tolls of a bell came over the sound system...once, twice, three times...before being replaced by a haunting Latin chant.  
  
"What IS this?" Paul cried, more than a little nervous at this unscheduled interruption.  
  
"I'm afraid I might know," JR told him, remembering the last time he had witnessed an entrance like this.  
  
Then there was a huge flash of blue light, followed by the return of the normal house lights. Everyone in the arena gave a shocked gasp when they saw the tall figure that had suddenly appeared in the center of the ring, concealed from head to tow in a black, satin trimmed robe.  
  
Before Paul could question JR further the figure raised his hands and lowered the hood of his robe.  
  
"The Undertaker," Paul gasped in surprise.  
  
"No," JR corrected him, "not the Undertaker, it's the Lord of Darkness."  
  
Then the Undertaker gestured for a microphone. Lifting it to his mouth, he began, "No doubt many of you are wondering what I'm doing out here. Everyone, myself included, had assumed that I had put the Lord of Darkness behind me. I returned to the light, became the American Badass, courted the fans' approval and tried, for the most part, to play by the rules in my quest for the WWF Championship. And what did this get me?" he asked, "Screwed. From Kurt Angle and his brother to Stone Cold Steve Austin and his little bitch HHH I have been cheated time and again. Well it stops here. I'm sick of playing by rules that no one else follows, and I'm sick of getting screwed over. Judgment Day was the last straw. The American Badass is dead, now there is ONLY the Lord of Darkness. And HHH, Vince, Austin...you're asses are MINE! When I am done the three of you will all rest in peace!"  
  
Then red fire erupted from the ring posts and the machines near the stage entrance as Kane appeared.  
  
"It's Kane," JR shouted, "I wonder how the Big Red Machine feels about this announcement from his brother."  
  
Kane made his way to the ring and climbed in, moving to stand toe-to-toe with the Undertaker. The two giants stared into each other's eyes for several seconds, motionless, until Kane moved back slightly. As quickly as a striking cobra his hand flashed out...  
  
...and grasped the Undertaker's in a firm handshake as fire exploded once again from the ring posts.  
  
"Oh my God," Paul shouted into his microphone, "I don't believe it. The Brothers of Destruction have just become the Lords of Darkness!"  
  
"And God save us all," JR added.  
  



	2. The First Victims

Lords of Darkness II  
  
  
That night Commissioner Regal signed a handicapped match for Kane and the Undertaker against Edge, Christian and Rhyno. The team of REC waited in the ring after their entrance. Then, for the second time that night, the lights in the arena went out.   
  
The Undertaker's voice came over the speakers, darkly intoning the words, "Obtentio Exsuperabilis Lumenarium**," and then Kane's pyros went off. The two monsters became visible in the entrance and Edge, Christian and Rhyno all found themselves shivering in fear. Both Kane and the Undertaker were garbed in long, hooded robes. Kane's was a deep maroon while the Undertaker's was pure black.   
  
"Who knows what to expect from these two men," JR said as Kane and the Undertaker slowly made their way to the ring accompanied by the music of haunting Latin chants. "They were devastating enough before, but now they both seem to have embraced a darker side of themselves. What that will mean for the other wrestlers here in the WWF, only time will tell."  
  
"I'll tell you what to expect from these two," Paul Heyman told his commentary partner, "Pain, and lots of it. These two were monsters before, but even monsters have hearts. Kane and the Undertaker, they don't anymore. Now they're just going to absolutely destroy anyone and everyone who gets in their way...or who looks at them funny."  
  
Then the brothers entered the ring and stood in its center. As the original Lord of Darkness, the Undertaker, stood unmoving, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his robe, Kane raised his arms, bringing them down as the ring posts exploded in flames.  
  
"Is it just me, or have Kane's pyros become more...disturbing...lately," Paul commented to no one in particular.  
  
When Kane and the Undertaker turned to remove their robes, Edge, Christian, and Rhyno struck. Christian and Rhyno both ganged up on the Undertaker, while Edge hit Kane from behind. Kane's head bowed slightly under Edge's blows...but only slightly. Quickly regaining his balance, Kane turned slowly around to face Edge, his eyes' amused glint showing through the holes in his mask. Kane then shook his head, chastising Edge for his foolish actions.   
  
"That doesn't look to have been an intelligent move on the part of Edge," JR commented as Edge's face became a disbelieving mask of horror and he started to back away from the monster before him. Kane followed him, stalking his prey after first taking off his robe and throwing it out of the ring.  
  
Meanwhile, Christian and Rhyno were beating up on the Undertaker in another corner of the ring. Taker swiftly pivoted and struck Christian in the jaw with a powerful right cross. Christian momentarily dropped to the canvas, stunned by the punch. Then the Undertaker grabbed Rhyno's neck and threw him into the corner that the Undertaker had been trapped in...briefly. His movements only slightly encumbered by the robe he still wore, the Undertaker attacked Rhyno with a flurry of punches to his head and body.   
  
"This match is just underway and already the Undertaker and Kane have established their authority," JR said as he watched the match unfold. "Kane and Edge are battling on the outside of the ring now. And the Undertaker is single handedly taking care of both Christian and Rhyno."  
  
"That's not all they're doing," Paul piped up from his seat next to JR, "they're sending a message to everybody in the WWF. This is a warning, don't mess with the Lords of Darkness."  
  
As the Undertaker attacked Rhyno, a very woozy Christian had managed to pull himself back up using the ring ropes for support. He tried to pull the Undertaker off Rhyno, but his efforts were futile.   
  
"What is Christian thinking?" Paul asked disbelievingly, "Is he crazy? Just STAY DOWN. Things would go much easier for him if he'd just pretend to be unconscious...or better yet, dead."  
  
"Not exactly the brave thing to do," JR said with disdain.  
  
"Who cares about bravery?" Paul replied, "If I were Christian I would be more concerned with staying alive."  
  
Taker grabbed Christian and threw him into the corner, squishing Rhyno in the process. The Undertaker proceeded to give Christian the same treatment of punches that he had been using to wear down Rhyno. With both men temporarily out of it, the Undertaker removed his own robe and tossed it over the top rope.  
  
Kane finally caught up with Edge halfway up the entrance ramp. The two men exchanged blows as the Undertaker roughly threw Christian out of the ring. Taker then grabbed Rhyno by the neck and, lifting him several inches off the ring floor, proceeded to choke him. When the referee tried to intervene Taker merely removed one of his hands from around Rhyno's neck and violently shoved the referee to the canvas and then out of the ring itself.  
  
"Is everyone in the WWF suicidal?" Paul yelled incredulously, "First Christian, now Teddy Long. Just let the Undertaker do what he wants, for crying out loud. It's not like anybody's going to be able to stop him anyway!"  
  
"That man was just doing his job," JR protested, "The Undertaker had no right to throw him around like that."  
  
"You're right, JR," Paul sarcastically agreed. "Now why don't you go tell him that to his face?"  
  
"I don't think so," was all JR said.  
  
In a desperate attempt to help Rhyno, Christian grabbed a steel chair and reentered the ring. The Undertaker saw him approaching from the corner of his eye, however, and at the last minute moved out of the way of the rapidly descending chair. Not having time to stop his blow, Christian wound up hitting Rhyno over the head with the chair, causing him to drop bonelessly to the ground as the Undertaker released his grasp on Rhyno's neck.  
  
Christian again tried to hit the Undertaker with the chair, but Taker raised his foot and kicked the chair back into Christian's face, sending both Christian and the chair to the canvas. The Undertaker picked up the discarded chair and moved to strike the helpless Christian with it, but the referee had reentered the ring and once again got in the Undertaker's way, this time trying to take the chair away from Taker. Easily overpowering the smaller man, the Undertaker altered his strike and nailed the referee instead. With no one left to stop him, Taker proceeded to hit Christian repeatedly with the chair, striking the younger man's head, shoulders, and back repeatedly.   
  
"That's just wrong," said JR, "We need to get somebody out here to stop this. It isn't a wrestling match, it's just an all out assault."  
  
In spite of JR's pleas, however, no one came to stop the Undertaker. Only when it was apparent that Christian was unconscious did the Undertaker end his attack.   
  
When the Undertaker turned to go back to where he had left Rhyno lying he was surprised to find himself on the receiving end of a gore.   
  
"Gore, gore, gore!" Paul screamed into his microphone. "The man-beast, Rhyno, has finally managed to mount some offense against the Undertaker, goring the man from the Dark Side!"  
  
Shocking the crowd, announcers, and himself, Rhyno actually managed to take the Undertaker down. For all of two seconds. No sooner had the Undertaker landed on the canvas than he was already moving to get back up, seemingly unphased by Rhyno's most devastating move. The Undertaker kicked Rhyno in the stomach as the shorter man tried to get to the chair, which had fallen from the Undertaker's hands when he had been gored. Taker softened Rhyno up with several more kicks, then forced Rhyno into position for the last ride. Lifting the man-beast high above his head, the Undertaker brought him down with incredible force directly onto the steel chair.   
  
"Oh my God!" JR cried, "A last ride onto a steel chair! Things aren't looking good for Rhyno."  
  
During this time, Edge and Kane had continued their fight, eventually reaching the top of the ramp. While the two men exchanged blows, HHH and Stone Cold Steve Austin appeared in the entrance with chairs in the hands.   
  
"What are those two doing here?" JR asked in disgust, "They're not even scheduled to wrestle tonight."  
  
"I'd say trying to take out the competition," Paul responded dryly. "Obviously another brilliant plan from HHH, attacking Kane when he and the Undertaker are occupied with Edge, Christian, and Rhyno."  
  
"A brilliant cowardly plan," JR grumbled, "look at them, trying to sneak up behind Kane with those chairs."  
  
"Wouldn't you?" Paul retorted.  
  
Sneaking up behind Kane, the two men simultaneously hit him on either side of his head with the chairs. Kane just tilted his head to the side, as if he had been bitten by an annoying insect and was trying to determine which way it had flown so that he could exact revenge. Kane turned to face his attackers. While his evil grin was hidden behind his mask, his eyes and posture, as always incredibly expressive, gave his dark intent away as he glared menacingly at his two enemies.  
  
"Does nothing phase that man?" Paul protested "He just got hit with a conchairto and you'd think that it tickled from the way he's acting! That monster just gets scarier the longer I watch him!"  
  
HHH and Austin took a long look at Kane. Then they looked at one another, disbelief and panic on their faces. Then they looked back at Kane. Then they dropped their chairs and ran.  
  
"That may have been the smartest thing I've seen those two do," JR said, a smile on his face as he watched the Power Trip running away with their tails between their legs.  
  
"Exactly!" Paul agreed, "They accomplished what they set out to do, they distracted Kane from his match. There was no reason for them to stay."  
  
"Especially since Kane was about to kick their asses," JR retorted.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Paul claimed, a righteous anger in his voice.  
  
Kane started after HHH and Austin, but Edge attacked him from behind, diverting his attention from the Two Man Power Trip. Kane shrugged dismissively, knowing that sooner or later he'd get his hands on the two men, and returned his attention to Edge. As Kane turned, Edge tried to hit a spear, but Kane recognized the fact and moved aside. Edge ran into the metal framework of the entryway, opening a long cut above his right eyebrow. As he staggered away from the frame Kane sent him to the ground hard with a devastating clothesline.  
  
"What a clothesline!" JR cried, "What a powerful, powerful clothesline!"  
  
Kane still wasn't satisfied. Thinking back on all the times Edge and Christian had made fun of him, calling him a burnt freak, a retard, and other disparaging insults, he decided further retribution was in order. Kane roughly jerked Edge onto his feet and walked over to the edge of the stage on which the two had been fighting. Kane looked down onto the hard concrete floor twenty feet below where he and Edge stood. Once again a dark grin broke out on his masked face, and he positioned Edge's body for a tombstone.  
  
"Oh no!" JR yelled as he saw what Kane was doing, "He wouldn't! That's got to be at least a twenty foot drop to the concrete floor under the stage. That could kill Edge if he's tombstoned onto it. Even Kane can't be that evil a monster!"  
  
Edge, realization of Kane's plan finally getting through his muddled mind, began to struggle feebly, but it was to late. Kane jumped off the stage, tombstoning Edge, driving his head into the concrete far below.   
  
"Wanna bet?" Paul responded to JR's comment, an awed tone shadowing his usual smugness.  
  
Shaking off the effects the fall had had on him, Kane stood and threw Edge's broken, motionless body over his shoulder and made his way towards the ring. Kane didn't relinquish his trophy until he got back into the ring. Then he casually threw Edge's body on top of those of Rhyno and Christian.  
  
The Undertaker looked up at his brother and nodded. Kane lifted his arms in the air and the ring posts once again erupted in fire. As their music once again played, the two Lords of Darkness slowly made their way out of the arena, leaving behind four bloody, broken bodies.  
  
"I think that Kane and the Undertaker just declared war on the WWF," Paul Heyman commented to the stunned JR, "and it doesn't look like they're taking any prisoners."  



	3. Future's Death

Lords of Darkness III  
  
Mark Callaway sighed as he slowed his motorcycle, turning off onto the dirt road that led to the remote ranch house he shared with his wife, Sara. The WWF had just finished the taping of Smackdown in Houston, Texas, and Mark was taking advantage of the fact to sneak home for a couple days. When he had left the arena after he and Kane had handily defeated Kaentai in all of six seconds he had been on an adrenaline high, more tightly wound than a spring, but as he drew closer to his home he could feel himself relaxing, his entire demeanor shifting from that of the newly reawakened 'Lord of Darkness' to ordinary Mark Callaway.   
  
Sara had that affect on him.   
  
With her, he could just be himself. He could forget about all the anger and frustration that were his usual companions and escape from the darkness that constantly threatened to overwhelm him. She had been the first person, other than his brother, Kane, to see past the exterior he showed the world. When they had met he had been at the lowest point in his life, he had hated everything and everyone, taking out his rage in bouts of senseless violence. Then, suddenly, she had been there, unafraid despite his intimidating character. She had somehow found the tiny kernel of Mark Callaway that, at the time, had been all that had been left of him, and had helped it grow, helped to separate him from the 'Lord of Darkness'.  
  
It had taken a long time, and a great deal of patience on Sara's part, but eventually Mark had regained his perspective on life...in the process falling madly in love with the golden angel who had inspired him.  
  
Sara had been understandably worried when he had told her about his plan to 'resurrect' the Lord of Darkness persona, but she had in the end understood. Mark had reassured her that, with her at his side, the Undertaker would never again overwhelm him. But, he had explained, the other wrestlers in the WWF didn't fear Mark Callaway; they feared the Undertaker, the Lord of Darkness. And, since it had become obvious that he wasn't going to get the respect that he deserved, he would settle for regaining their terror.  
  
Mark shook his head, banishing these thoughts from his head. Now was not the time to be dwelling on the injustice he had suffered of late in the WWF. He promised himself that for the next four days he would concentrate only on the woman he loved...and how to keep her in bed for as long as possible.   
  
As his thoughts returned to the present, Mark noticed a flashing of lights through the foliage of the trees and bushes that lined the road. A sudden cold gripped his heart, and he chided himself against jumping to conclusions. Rounding the final turn before his home, however, he felt his heart clench as the house came into view...along with the police cars and ambulances that sat in the yard in front of it.  
  
Heedless of his own safety, Mark sped up, gravel flying in all directions as he pulled into his driveway and stopped next to one of the police officers that were prowling the territory. Immediately he cut the motor on his bike and, turning to the officer, demanded, "What the hell is going on here?"  
  
The other man had watched Mark's homecoming, and the sympathy that showed on his face sent dread coursing through Mark's body. "Are you Mark Callaway?"  
  
"Yes, who the fuck else would I be? Now will you tell me what the he..." Mark's words came to a choked halt as, at that moment, two paramedics stepped out onto the porch carrying a stretcher between them. Lying on the stretcher was a small form...wrapped in a black body bag.  
  
Mark barely noticed the hand that the officer brought up and rested on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, sir. Your wife was already gone when we arrived."  
  
Mark didn't respond to the officer, he merely stared in emotionless shock as the body was loaded into the waiting ambulance and the paramedics closed the doors to the back of the vehicle. As those doors closed, taking with them his view of Sara, Mark felt something inside him give a desolate, wailing cry as it died.  
  
*******  
  
"You did WHAT?!" HHH screamed, staring at his partner-in-crime, Stone Cold Steve Austin in abject disbelief. "You were supposed to kidnap Sara, not fucking kill her!"   
  
"She nearly scratched my damn eyes out when I went to grab her. She disrespected Stone Cold Steve Austin. I couldn't just let her get away with that."  
  
"So you kill her?! She scratches you, and so you decide to forget all our plans and fucking kill her? What the FUCK were you thinking?!"  
  
"Hell, I didn't plan on killing her, just dope her up so she was easier to handle," Austin explained, his own voice beginning to rise in response to HHH's outburst.  
  
Hunter ground his teeth, trying in vain to control his fiery temper. "You emptied the entire syringe into her."  
  
"You're the one who gave it to me. How was I supposed to know it would kill her?"  
  
Hunter's face was, by now, dark red, and veins on either side of his forehead had popped out, making it look as if his head could explode at any moment. "Because I fucking TOLD you at least five damn times not to give her more than a quarter of what was there! I gave you extra in case Taker was there too!"   
  
Before Austin could reply, Vince burst into the room, an anxious expression on his face. "The Undertaker is aware of the situation. He arrived at the ranch just as they were removing Sara's body."  
  
HHH collapsed onto the couch at that news, rubbing his face wearily with his hands. "Fuck. That's it, then. We're all dead."  
  
"Now, let's not jump to conclusions," Vince advised, the nervous gestures of his hands belying his calm words. "There's no reason to assume that the Undertaker will figure out who was responsible for Sara's death."  
  
Hunter shook his head, falling backwards against the back of the couch. "Oh, he'll figure it out. You can count on that." He sighed resignedly, silently asking himself how he had ever gotten mixed up in the whole mess in the first place. "I hope the two of you are happy. I was against involving Sara in any of this. It was you guys who insisted on using her against Taker."  
  
Austin angrily strode over to where HHH sat dejectedly, looming over the Game. "Now wait one damn minute. You can't blame this all on Stone Cold! You went along with Vince and me. Do you really think that IF he finds out what happened, the Undertaker is going to go easier on you just because using Sara wasn't your idea?"  
  
HHH raised his head up from the couch back to meet Austin's gaze with hazel eyes that were devoid of even the slightest glimmer of hope. "No, I don't."  
  
*******  
  
An incredibly annoying ringing woke Kane from a sound sleep. Rolling over, he slammed a massive fist down onto the alarm clock on its nightstand, sending the helpless machine to an early grave as it shattered into pieces. The ringing continued, however.   
  
"Mmph?" Kane blearily opened his eyes, staring dumbly at the mutilated alarm clock until the realization of what the true source of the persistent noise was penetrated his sleep-addled mind.  
  
Kane slowly picked up the phone receiver, bringing it up to his head. "Mmm...'ello?"  
  
"Kane, come out to the ranch. I need you to do a fire reading for me," the Undertaker's voice instructed, sounding frighteningly dead to Kane's ears and shaking the last grasping fingers of sleep from Kane's mind.  
  
Now fully awake, Kane sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Mark, what's wrong? What happened?"  
  
There was a short pause, as if Taker had needed time to compose himself before answering. His reply, though, was completely lacking of any emotions, and sent the receiver tumbling from Kane's suddenly lax fingers.  
  
"Sara is dead."  
  
*******  
  
Kane broke several speed limits on his way to his brother's ranch. When he arrived he found Mark standing stoically in front of the house, a blazing torch in one hand and the reeking aroma of gasoline heavy in the air.  
  
Kane quickly jogged over to where Taker stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Mark, how did it happen?"  
  
The Undertaker tensed under Kane's hand, then turned, dislodging his grip. "That's what you're here to tell me," he answered in a monotone voice, his dead eyes staring at the peace he had called home, the first place he had found real happiness.  
  
Then he threw the flaming brand onto the porch, which was almost immediately engulfed in flame, violent testimony to the amount of fuel the Undertaker had poured over it.  
  
"Mark, no!" Kane had recognized Taker's intent the moment he had seen the torched and smelled the gasoline, but he had hoped to talk his brother out of destroying his home.  
  
The Undertaker turned, staring at Kane with stormy jade eyes. "It is the only way to learn the truth of what happened. Besides, there is nothing for me here anymore. Now, will you perform the ceremony, or do I need to contact the dark spirits?"  
  
Kane froze at that. Whatever else happened, he could not let Taker call on those terrible powers again. Not when it would certainly cost him his soul. Kane took one last look at the Undertaker, shaking his head and sighing at the unshakeable resolve in his face. "No, Mark. That won't be necessary, I'll do it."  
  
So saying, Kane drew closer to the roaring fire, which by now had engulfed the majority of the house. Curiously unaffected by the intense heat, Kane closed his eyes, a frown of concentration on his face.  
  
For several minutes he stood motionless, struggling to call on abilities he hadn't used in ages. Finally he felt the familiar call of the flames, and he momentarily lost himself in the power and raging energies of the inferno as his spirit joined with it. The dark shadow at the corner of his consciousness that represented his brother drew him back, however, and he composed himself to begin the ceremony.  
  
Kane brought his left hand up until it was even with his eyes and clenched it into a tight fist. Firmly grasping it within his right hand, he intoned a single word, "Terra."  
  
Then he steepled the index and smallest fingers of both hands, calling out, "Aether," in a deep voice.  
  
Once more forming a fist with his left hand, he straightened his right, holding it perpendicular to the ground. "Aqua."  
  
Finally he straightened his left hand as well, pressing his palms together almost as if in prayer. "Ignis," he chanted, then returned his hands to their original formation and repeated the series several times. Each repetition came faster than the last, and Kane's voice began to resonate with an ancient, elemental power.  
  
So lost was Kane in his ritual that he didn't notice the image forming in the dancing flames until he heard the Undertaker gasp.  
  
Kane opened his eyes and gazed into the fire, watching sadly as the fire-shadow of Sara entered what used to be the bedroom. She sat down at her vanity and began to brush her long, golden hair.  
  
Kane drew a sharp breath when the door behind Sara slowly opened and Stone Cold Steve Austin entered the room. Before Austin could reach Sara, something alerted her to his presence and she turned to face him, jumping up from her stool. The two shades spoke to each other, but whatever was said was lost in the crackling of the fire.  
  
Eventually Stone Cold began to move towards Sara again. She backed up until she ran into a dresser, then she abruptly tried to dart for the door and safety, but Austin was quicker. Moving like the snake from which he took his nickname he struck, grabbing Sara's arm in an iron grip.  
  
Sara still refused to give up. She struggled wildly to escape from Austin, kicking him and lashing out with her free arm. She raked her fingers over Austin's face, her nails leaving a set of angry red scratches in their wake.  
  
Stone Cold threw her violently against a wall. Sara crumpled to the floor stunned as her head bounced off the unyielding drywall. Gingerly fingering the scratches she had left, Austin glared at her, the sheer malevolence and hatred on his face causing her to struggle to regain her senses and her feet.  
  
Before she could do so, Austin was upon her, shoving a knee painfully into her chest and pinning her against the wall. He reached into a pocket in his jeans and pulled out a hypodermic needle. Once again grabbing onto her arm, he jammed the needle home and emptied it into her small body. Sara continued to fruitlessly fight against Austin, but as time wore on it became apparent that she was rapidly weakening.   
  
Then she collapsed altogether.  
  
Austin gaped at her in astonishment before bringing his hand up to her neck, checking for a pulse. Seconds later he jerked his hand back as if burned and looked wildly around the room, as if suspecting someone to jump out of the shadows and attack him. He jumped to his feet and began frantically pacing the room, gesturing wildly as he ranted to himself. After one final circuit of the room he approached Sara's motionless body, leaning over her and yelling into her face, his own nose only an inch from hers. Winding his right arm back, he slapped her across the cheek, never stopping in his tirade. But, in spite of his efforts, Sara remained unresponsive.  
  
When Stone Cold raised his arm once more, preparing to strike Sara yet again, the Undertaker's voice finally broke the eerie silence that had reigned during the entire scene. "Enough."  
  
Kane immediately broke his connection to the flames, and the images faded before their eyes.  
  
The Undertaker continued to stare into the raging fire, hatred etched on every feature. "And thus, the Power Trip has sealed its own destruction."  
  
*******  
  
"Now wait a minute!" Kane protested, his heartbeat quickening as he realized the implications behind Taker's words. And especially how those implications concerned a certain hazel-eyed member of the Power Trip. "Steve was the one who killed Sara. There is nothing that suggests that Vince or HHH were involved too."  
  
The Undertaker's stormy glare halted any further protests. "You don't honestly believe that Austin came up with this idea on his own, do you? He couldn't, he's an idiot, nothing more than a pawn of Vince McMahon...and HHH."  
  
Kane's desperate eyes met Taker's resolute ones in a brief struggle, but he was quickly forced to look away, lowering his head as he nodded in agreement with his older brother. "You're right," he sighed wearily, "you're right. I just..."  
  
The Undertaker interrupted him, his voice cruel and impatient. "You just refuse to accept the fact that you relationship with Hunter is over. Face it, Kane, he betrayed you. In the end, whatever it was that the two of you had wasn't as important to him as his career. YOU weren't as important to him. Pitifully clinging to a dead romance is beneath you, and more than a little disgusting."  
  
Kane felt each of the Undertaker's words as if they were physical blows. His throat constricted and he found himself fighting back tears as the truth that he had been trying so hard to avoid was finally, brutally, forced home.   
  
Kane had truly loved Hunter. He had thought he had finally found his life's mate in the passionate blonde, who for Kane had finally left his wife, Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley, and had begun divorce proceedings to end their farce of a marriage. After almost a year of bliss, however, HHH had decided to end their relationship, returning to his wife and joining up with Vince and Austin in the hopes of regaining championship gold. He hadn't even cared enough to tell Kane face-to-face about his decision. Instead Kane had learned of it after a vicious attack from behind had left him lying on the ground in agony, looking up into the face of his chair-wielding lover.  
  
Still, Kane had hoped deep down that in time Hunter would realize his error, that he would come back, admitting he had been wrong and begging for forgiveness. The Undertaker had made him realize just how foolish that hope really was. Kane knew Hunter, better than anyone; he knew how important being a champion was to him. It was the single most driving force in his life, practically his reason for being. There was no way that he would give up his chance to be champion again...not for anyone...certainly not for a burnt freak like Kane.  
  
Kane suddenly felt himself floundering, as if a giant sinkhole had suddenly opened up beneath him, swallowing him whole, and an aching, all to familiar sensation of loneliness crept upon him. In that moment of despair, Kane once again heard the siren's song of the raging inferno calling out to him, as it had in his youth, offering solace and relief from his pain.  
  
Years ago, under Paul Bearer's tutelage, Kane had given into this temptation, and had fallen into an world of desolation and solitude, believing that no one cared for him and refusing to care for anyone else...refusing to feel anything at all other than anger and loathing. It had taken the loving acceptance and support of his older brother and several years to finally free him from the enslavement of the Elemental Fire. Since that time, it had never stopped reaching out for him, trying to pull him back to its side and reestablish its control over him. He had been able to ignore it, however, being determined not to relinquish the ability to feel...to love...that he had gained so late in life.  
  
At the moment, however, he couldn't remember why he had wanted to keep the ability so badly. He stood there, gazing sightlessly into the raging flames, his heart shattered into countless pieces, and he let the power of the inferno's essence wash over him. He no longer had the will to fight it. He remained motionless, allowing its spirit to merge with his own as it took away his pain, hardening his heart and leaving it shadowed in darkness, turning him back into the monster he had been when he had first entered the WWF on a quest to destroy the Undertaker.  
  
Feeling strangely free, Kane looked over to the Undertaker, the dancing flames reflecting in his eyes. "So what's the plan?"  
  
One corner of the Undertaker's mouth curled up in an evil smirk, a faraway look appearing on his face as he imagined the many ways he could exact his revenge. "Simple. We torture those bastards until they wish they were dead and then, we grant that wish." 


	4. Dark Vengeance

Lords of Darkness IV  
  
Thunderous cheers rocked the Mellon Arena in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, as Raw kicked of the following Monday. JR and Paul Heyman sat at their usual ringside announce table; after introducing the night's matches, they picked up the never-ending verbal battle that they waged every Monday.  
  
"Everyone here at the WWF would like to send our continued prayers out to Edge, Christian and their family," JR announced, preparing to bring everyone up-to-date on their conditions. "As was mentioned on Smackdown, Christian had a mild concussion and a separated shoulder, and has since been released from the hospital. Rhyno, who also competed in the match, got away with only a bruised tailbone. Edge, though, suffered severe head trauma in addition to rupturing several vertebrae, and has been in a coma for the last week. The doctors are doing all they can, but it doesn't look good for the young man. Even if he does come out of his coma, there is a ninety-eight percent chance that he will never walk again."  
  
"I'd like to add my own personal well-wishes to those of the rest of the WWF," Paul broke in, smug indignation coloring his voice, "and I would also like to condemn the actions of those monsters, the so-called 'Lords of Darkness', Kane and the Undertaker. What they did was inexcusable, and furthermore..."  
  
With a deafening roar the entire ring erupted in flames. Paul and JR both sat speechless as the fire burned merrily for several moments. Strangely, it didn't seem to be damaging the ring in any way, and they would have thought it nothing more than an illusion if they hadn't felt the intense heat radiating from it.  
  
Just as suddenly as it had begun, the blaze disappeared, leaving the Undertaker and Kane, both wearing their robes with the hoods thrown back, standing in the middle of the ring.  
  
JR was the first to speak, wry humor mixing with awed fear in his voice. "You're in luck, Paul. Now's your chance to express your displeasure with the Undertaker and Kane in person."  
  
"Oh, ha, ha, very funny. You're about as humorous as these two clowns in the ring. How dare they interrupt MY commentary like..."  
  
"We are going to be brief, and to the point." Taker's deep, menacing voice easily overrode Paul's. "Last week I arrived home to discover that my wife had been murdered in our own home."  
  
"WHAT!?" JR exclaimed, unable to believe what he had just heard.   
  
The cry was repeated throughout the arena, and the Undertaker paused for a moment until the crowd quieted down. "In the time since, Kane and I learned who the responsible partied were. And so, Vince, HHH...Austin...Kane and I are here to warn you that as of now you are all living on borrowed time."  
  
With that the Undertaker threw down his microphone and he and Kane started to leave the ring. Kane had just flipped over the top rope onto the arena floor when Vince McMahon's music began. Both men glanced to the entryway at the top of the ramp to see Vince himself stride from behind the curtains.  
  
"Now wait just one damn minute!" Vince shouted irately. "Are you insinuating that Austin, Hunter and I had something to do with your wife's death? This is absolutely disgusting, you, trying to use your wife's death against the three of us. You shame your wife's memory with these spurious allegations."  
  
The Undertaker's countenance had grown steadily darker as Vince had spoken, and he clasped the top rope with both hands, the knuckles of his tightly clenched fists going white. "Kane," he called out, his voice hardly recognizable due to the hatred it contained, "show Mr. McMahon our 'spurious allegations'."  
  
Nodding, Kane climbed back into the ring and took his position in its center. He pressed the palms of his hands together and bent his head, concentrating, until, hovering in the air above him appeared a large ball of fire. Imaged slowly appeared inside of it, and the entire arena watched with gruesome fascination as Sara's last moments played out before it.  
  
By the time the drama had completely unfolded and Kane's mystic fire had faded away every bit of color had drained out of Vince's face. All eyes now turned towards him, and he swallowed nervously as he formulated his response. "Those...those fancy special effects don't prove a thing," he began, his voice gaining strength as he recovered from his initial shock. "None of that really happened. It was nothing more than a trick of light and mirrors."  
  
"I'll give you light and mirrors," Kane growled, offended, as his hand come up and he prepared to give Mr. McMahon an up close view of his 'special effects'.  
  
The Undertaker placed a staying hand on his brother's shoulder, shaking his head in negation when Kane looked over at him. Now was not the time for such things. "I assure you, my brother's powers are quite real, as are mine...as you and your allies will soon learn."  
  
That moment, William Regal's music began, and the commissioner of the WWF made his entrance. "Now hold on there, sunshine," Regal sneered. "I don't know who you and your brother think you are, coming out here and threatening Mr. McMahon, but I can assure you that your impertinence will not go unpunished."  
  
A sardonic smile bloomed on the Undertaker's face as he stared up at the two men. "Oh really, 'sunshine'? And just who is going to attempt this punishment? You?"  
  
An expression of fear briefly crossed Regal's face, gone almost before it was there. "You two don't deserve the honor of facing me in battle. No, instead you will face Albert and the Dudley Boys in a handicap table match."  
  
Kane and the Undertaker shared an amused look, then they both turned back to Vince and Regal. "I didn't realize you hated those boys that much," Taker chuckled morbidly. Then he made a slashing gesture with his right hand and every light in the arena went out, plunging it into total darkness. Seconds later, when the lights came back on, Kane and the Undertaker were gone.  
  
*******  
  
Stone Cold Steve Austin staggered out of the bathroom of he and Debra's hotel room and collapsed into bed next to his wife. "Dammit, I hurt."  
  
Debra looked up from the magazine she was reading, concern on her face. "Your shower didn't help at all?"  
  
Austin just snorted disparagingly. "Shit, woman, if it had helped, do you think I would still be complaining?"  
  
"Well, I..." Debra said, shocked by her husband's remark. Not for the first time, she wondered what had happened to the loving man she had married. "I was just asking. There's no need to be rude."  
  
"Whatever," Austin shrugged, showing no signs of actually being listening to his wife. "I'll tell you this, the next time Vince wants somebody to interfere in one of Taker and Kane's matches he can send his son-in-law. I don't plan on getting anywhere near those two again."  
  
"That's a good idea. Who knows what Kane would have done to you if Albert hadn't low-blowed him. You probably would have wound up in worse shape than Albert and the Dudleys, and none of them are expected to be able to wrestle again for at least a few months. Kane and the Undertaker have absolutely terrified me lately. Well, they've always been intimidating, but now it's like they don't even care about possible consequences, they just want to hurt people. Ever since..." Debra paused in her ramblings to cast a hesitant glance towards Austin. "Steve, honey, you didn't REALLY kill the Undertaker's wife, did you?"  
  
"Of course not!" Stone Cold replied. "I can't believe that you actually have to ask me that. Of course I didn't kill her."  
  
Debra relaxed with relief, allowing herself to believe her husband. "I knew it. I knew you would never so something like that. I knew it was all a lie."  
  
"Exactly," Austin said, kissing her lightly on the forehead. "Just a lie those two sickos cooked up to turn me into a bad guy. Now, why don't you get some shuteye? I'm going to run down and soak in the hot tub downstairs and see if that doesn't help."  
  
"Are you sure? The plane leaves early tomorrow, and you need to get your sleep."  
  
"There ain't no way I'd be able to sleep right now, anyway, sore as I am. I won't be down there too long, though, couple hours tops. Besides, I can always catch a nap on the plane."  
  
"Alright," Debra finally gave in. "But I don't want to hear you complaining about being tired tomorrow."  
  
"Fine, glad to see you're so concerned about my welfare," Austin said as he gathered up a dry towel and his bathing shorts and made for the door. "Goodnight."  
  
Debra sighed in frustration as Stone Cold left, closing the door firmly behind him without even waiting for her reply. "Goodnight, Steve," she murmured as she settled herself under the covers and turned off her table lamp.  
  
*******  
  
Stone Cold was still angrily muttering over Debra's disrespecting him ten minutes later as he waited impatiently for an elevator. Finally giving into his impatience, he headed for the stairwell, deciding to walk down the three flights of stairs to the Lobby level. His hand had just touched the door when a harsh voice came from behind him.  
  
"Where do you think you're going, boy?"  
  
Recognizing the voice, Austin replied, "Fuck off, Taker. I got no business with you."  
  
The Undertaker grabbed Austin's shoulders and slammed him against the wall. "That's where you're wrong, boy...very wrong. You and me, we've got all kinds of unsettled business between us...but not for long." With that the Undertaker's right hand began to glow with a strange black flame. Firmly grabbing Austin's throat in his left hand to hold the other man in place, Taker covered Austin's face with his right hand and began incanting in what sounded like Latin. His voice began to resonate with power until he barked out the final word. The flame surrounding his hand flared up, and Austin felt a ripping pain run through his body.  
  
He managed to scream once, briefly, before falling lifelessly to the floor.  
  
*******  
  
Austin awoke to find himself in a seemingly endless hall. Wall-mounted torches provided pools of illumination on the rough stone walls and the obsidian floor. A forest of large demonic statues surrounded him, all with their heads turned in his direction as if watching this newcomer to their realm.  
  
"What the hell?!" He exclaimed, looking around in frustrated astonishment. Faintly he hear a murmuring voice off to his left and, with no other ideas, he began to make his way towards it. Suddenly from behind him came an ear-piercing wail. Austin turned, but the statues prevented him from seeing what had made such a terrible noise. With inexplicable certainty, however, he knew that whatever it was, it was heading straight for him. Gripped with intense terror, Stone Cold began to run, looking back over his shoulder, expecting at any second to see some hideous monstrosity come into view.   
  
So intent was he on what was behind him that he didn't see the figure that flowed out of the floor in front of him; Austin never noticed him until he collided with him.  
  
"Ah!" he yelled as he ricocheted off the figure and fell to the floor. Looking up, Austin found himself staring into the grim visage of the Undertaker. "What, you! What the hell is going on here?! How did you get me here? Where the hell IS here?!"  
  
The Undertaker silently regarded Austin, his face mirroring the hatred he felt for the man before him. Eventually he spoke, "Where is here? Here is the Dreamscape, a level of existence that is my birthright, an area that I control and command. I brought your spirit here to exact revenge for what you did to my wife."  
  
"Brought my spirit here? But how?"  
  
"More light and mirrors," Taker replied sarcastically, referring to Vince's comments earlier on Raw.  
  
"No," Austin said, trying to simultaneously rise and back away from the Undertaker, "that's not possible. None of this is possible."  
  
A terrifyingly evil chuckle escaped the Undertaker. "Oh, it's very possible. Just like it's possible that you are finally going to pay for killing Sara."  
  
At that moment their surroundings shifted, and the two men reappeared in a moderately sized room. Floor torches blazed in the corners and another fire burned in a large ceremonial bowl on an altar in the center of the room. Laid out on the altar, to either side of the bowl, were a wide variety of implements of torture; knives, whips, thumbscrews, and other frightening and strange objects whose function Austin could only guess.  
  
Before Stone Cold could utter a word of protest, he was seized by an invisible force. Austin watched in helpless terror as one of the Undertaker's massive symbols appeared in front of the altar. The same force that held him motionless levitated him towards the cross and settled him spread eagle upon it. Once he was in place the Undertaker picked up a large hammer and three iron spikes and moved over to where Austin hung.  
  
"This isn't real," Austin desperately denied. "None of it, this is just a bad dream. I'll wake up any minute now."  
  
The Undertaker placed one of the spikes against Austin's wrist, then hefted the hammer a few times. "Why don't you keep on telling yourself that? Maybe it'll help...maybe." With that the hammer came down and Austin howled as his arm was impaled. Taker then repeated the process with Austin's other arm and his feet. Then the force that had been holding Austin lessened just enough for a portion of his weight to rest on the spikes, causing them to pull at his flesh.  
  
Taker stepped back to admire his handiwork, then turned back to the altar, replaced the hammer and picked up a large bullwhip. "Now then, on to business."  
  
"You bastard," Austin snapped, "you'll never get away with this. You can't..."  
  
"You know," Taker interrupted, "I don't really want to hear anything you've got to say right now." And with no more than that Austin found that his mouth was sealed shut; no matter how he struggled he couldn't open it. "That's much better," the Undertaker said as he unraveled the whip. "Let's continue."  
  
The Undertaker proceeded to mercilessly flog Austin, leaving no part of his body unbloodied as his mighty whip came down again and again. Stone Cold felt tears sting his eyes as he hung there, unable to so much as cry out.  
  
"Is this how you felt when you killed my wife?" the Undertaker asked, breaking the silence that till now had prevailed. "Did you feel the power rushing through you? The ultimate power of holding another's life, their very future, in the palm of your hand? Did it excite you, when you felt her heart stop beating, when you realized exactly what you had done?"  
  
Austin desperately tried to shake his head, to deny what the Undertaker was saying, but he was still unable to move. He could only let out moans of pain and frustration as his tears cut paths through the blood covering his face.  
  
"It's a wonderful feeling, isn't it?" the Undertaker continued, emphasizing his words with strikes from his whip. "Having so much power, it's intoxicating. And very addictive. It was a feeling I used to revel in as the Lord of Darkness. I was pure evil, and I enjoyed every damn minute of it. Until Sara came along, and brought me out of the darkness, managed to convince me that there was something more to life than power and control." Now the Undertaker's eyes turned to ice and they bored into Austin's own. "And then you killed her. Though actually, I suppose I should thank you. You woke me up. Proved to me that nothing good in this world ever lasts."  
  
Taker rolled the bloody whip back up, placing it back on the altar. With a tilting motion of his hand he rotated the cross on which Austin was bound until his prisoner was lying horizontally, about four and a half feet off the ground. "You know," Taker continued, almost conversationally, "the fire is looking a bit low. I need to find something to feed it." So saying he picked up a large, serrated knife and a fork-like object from the altar. With one thrust, Taker stuck the fork deep into Austin's thigh, tearing a muffled scream from the Rattlesnake. Using the blade, Taker cut a chunk from the flesh surrounding the fork, then threw the flesh into the fire, which roared and flared up in appreciation.  
  
The Undertaker continued to flay Austin, randomly cutting chunks of his flesh from his body and feeding them to the fire. "Yes, you proved to me that I was better off as I had been," he picked up his previous discourse. "I was better off caring for no one, living with only one purpose in life, ensuring my own success...and, of course, causing as much pain as I can in the process."  
  
By now the fire was burning at twice its previous height, and Austin was beginning to feel faint from pain and blood loss. Black spots began to swim in front of his eyes, and he welcomed the blissful freedom of oblivion.  
  
"I don't think so," the Undertaker said, tapping his index finger against Stone Cold's temple. "There is no escape for you. Your soul is mine, to do with as I wish."  
  
Austin cried wordlessly in despair as he felt unconsciousness slipping away and he realized that he was once again fully aware.  
  
Taker pretended to be considering things. "I suppose, though, that I should be ending this fun. It will be morning soon, and I have much more to accomplish." With that he grabbed another knife from the altar and made two slices across Austin's stomach in the shape of a cross. Taking hold of two sides of the wound, the Undertaker pulled them apart, ripping the cut open. Then he reached inside and began to pull out Stone Cold's intestines and let them fall to a heap on the floor as the other man looked on in horror.  
  
Eventually the Undertaker had cleared out enough for his satisfaction and, concentrating slightly, he made a large bucket appear on the floor, filled with hot oil. He lifted the bucket and poured it's contents into Austin's chest cavity, enjoying the muffled shrieks of agony that came from his prisoner. "And now, Austin, it comes to an end. Don't worry. HHH and Vince will be joining you in hell soon enough." Taker picked up an unlit torch and ignited it from the altar fire, then used the flaming brand to light the oil inside of Austin on fire.  
  
The Undertaker removed Austin's mystical gag just in time to catch the man's dying screams, music to his ears as he stood watching his body burn from the inside out. 


End file.
